"Minuet!"
At my call, Minuet turned her head toward .
The hallucination must have worn off, right?
Surely, she wasn't hearing death threats like I did.
As our eyes t, Minuet trudged over and, without warning, grabbed my cheek and stretched it.
"Eeugh?"
"You're real, right?"
Residual effects of the hallucination, I see.
I nodded, and Minuet let go of my face without resistance.
She still looked dazed, as if she had barely returned to her senses, her face gaunt and exhausted. But her eyes were sharp—she had definitely tasted the full brunt of that hallucination.
Figures. There's no one left to trust but .
Now that we had cleared the second trial, we looked around, and before long, we found the exit.
The thunder must have drowned out the sound, but the cliff had already split open on both sides.
The second trial was the last one—this exit should lead us outside.
I ran my fingers through my wet hair, peeling it away from my cheek, and moved toward the cliff.
It had been more of a ss than expected, but at least Tempestas was over.
Ah, should I say congratulations? Things were too chaotic to bother.
Just as I passed through the exit, I turned to look at Minuet—
A presence charged at us at full speed.
"Minuet!"
It was Gavotte.
His face was twisted, filled not with joy but with sothing closer to sheer desperation.
He must have been worried sick. I was about to tease him—
But then—
"It's bad. Outside—right now!"
"Oh."
From the direction of the sea, an enormous waterspout was surging toward us.
…A third trial?
Gavotte quickly explained the situation.
In summary:
The Second Elder poured sothing onto the cliff.
A giant—presumably the first trial of Tempestas—had grown larger than the cliff itself, glared at the people, and then scattered into the wind.
A storm was now raging over the estate.
And Gavotte added his own theory.
"I forgot to ntion it in all the chaos, but I overheard sothing last night. So man and the Second Elder were talking."
"Just get to the point. We don’t have ti."
"They said, 'The limit is 30%, use only the asured dose. If you exceed it, the effects will be uncontrollable.' That’s all I heard, but it might be related."
This was definitely about Beatitudo.
I glanced at Cruello—he nodded, confirming my thoughts.
Then the likely culprit was—
"Who was the man?"
"I didn’t see his face. Only heard his voice—it was the deepest, most resonant voice I’ve ever heard. He sounded extrely authoritative."
"Hmm."
Ares.
He had been failing a lot recently, just like the rest of them.
Still, if this was true, it was impressive.
How had they infiltrated the estate without being detected? Considering how sensitive Siora was to spiritual energy, the Harvest Festival had proven that much.
Then again, Gavotte’s presence had beco much harder to detect ever since he contracted with the Byopseeds.
Even more so when summoning spirits. Maybe he specialized in concealnt.
Wait—if soone that skilled at hiding got caught by , then wasn’t I the most impressive one here?
Minuet thought for a mont but shook her head, unable to pinpoint anyone else.
"The Bonetti Elders—"
"All fled, those bastards."
"In such a short ti? They’re faster than I thought."
"And the estate?"
"I already ordered an evacuation, but… Minuet, you know what will happen if that waterspout reaches land."
The estate wouldn’t be spared.
Normally, waterspouts lose their montum once they reach land—but there was no way a storm that size would simply vanish.
Not when Beatitudo had been dumped into it.
The harbor was dood. The fields, the orchards, and the houses—nothing would survive.
"We don’t even know how much damage it’ll cause, or how long it’ll take to recover."
"And in the middle of all this, the Elder Council just ran for their lives?"
Minuet clenched her jaw, her face dark with fury.
But only for a mont—then, she lifted her head.
"Are there any horses left?"
***
The horses refused to run toward disaster. But defying the training they had endured since they were foals was even harder.
Three horses—I was riding the sa one as Cruello again, since Siora’s body couldn’t handle another.
We charged toward the storm.
The southern cape of Whistle stretched just over ten kiloters—a little over six miles.
It took us less than thirty minutes to reach the farthest point we could stand.
Up close, the waterspout was even more overwhelming.
"…Shit."
Among the speechless group, only Gavotte had the presence of mind to mutter a curse.
"What are we supposed to do about that?"
"Presto."
Minuet didn’t answer—she simply summoned her partner again.
The golden eagle soared upward, scouting the waterspout just as she commanded.
Gavotte hesitated, then called his own partner—a babtrogue—but Pianissimo could barely keep itself aloft.
That was bad.
I watched from a few steps behind.
Cruello, eyes locked on the waterspout, finally spoke.
"I think we can all guess what’s happening here."
"My fiancé has gone insane, soone wants dead, and Beatitudo was poured into the trial site."
"Darling, you’re excellent at everything except physical tasks."
"That’s—!"
I had said it so many tis—Siora’s terrible athleticism wasn’t my fault!
As the one borrowing her body, I couldn’t exactly complain about it all the ti, but still—
"That’s what?"
Cruello tilted his head, pretending not to understand.
Given the situation, though, even he didn’t press the issue further.
"The Beatitudo wasn't used in the proper amount, so most of it got absorbed into the first trial area. The magic circle's connection was severed—I saw it myself."
In other words, too much energy had flooded the conduit, causing it to rupture before reaching its intended destination.
That explained why energy that was supposed to remain within the cliff had leaked outside.
Well.
"The mist was too weak to be a proper trap anyway."
Cruello had taken damage from even that feeble attack, but I had walked out unscathed.
"One thing is certain—regardless of how we dispersed that damned mist, we can’t get rid of that."
"Not even if you stepped in?"
"It's been a while since I’ve admitted I can’t do sothing, but yes."
Cruello squinted, then chuckled.
He turned to look at .
"The spell you used during the Harvest Festival—could you apply it here?"
"No."
Trying to reverse a space this large would just reverse back into my original body.
Not that I was certain the world would end now that Cruello's hostility toward the Elder Council had been confird…
Wait a second.
Had I already completed my mission?
"Then it’s impossible. Before it reaches the shore, we should—"
"That’s not necessarily true."
When had I ever said there was no way?
Beatitudo had forcibly extracted divine power and used it as an energy source to inflate the spirit’s power.
So then—couldn’t real divine power be used to strengthen a spirit as well?
The real thing had to be stronger than sothing artificially created.
If I only used the divine power as a conduit—making sure it didn’t form into a magic circle—then the physical burden wouldn’t be too great.
Besides, if the Bonetti lineage really originated from the Pebula Church, this would align perfectly.
"Your Grace."
Minuet had approached while still glaring at the waterspout.
She was about to say sothing to Cruello, but he cut her off first.
"The only thing I can help with is the evacuation."
"If we leave it alone, the entire territory will be in ruins. Even if so of the people survive, their lives will be destroyed."
"It’s impossible. Literally."
"If we offered sothing in return—if not the entire Bonetti estate, then at least—"
"I thought Viscount Bonetti was a rational woman."
Cruello cut her off coldly.
But was it even human to remain rational in this situation?
When my money—the church's assets—had been stolen, I’d nearly lost my mind and wished hell upon my senior priests.
Emotionally, I was completely on Minuet’s side.
She glared at Cruello, but unfortunately, reality didn’t change.
"Then don’t just stand there watching—get lost."
Oh!
Minuet spat those words with a chilling finality, then stord off, grabbed Gavotte by the collar, and shoved him toward us.
"What the hell, Minuet?!"
"Bati, you evacuate."
"And what about you?"
"I cleared Tempestas. The Elder Council fled."
She took a deep breath before speaking again.
"I own this land now. I won’t let a bunch of cowards’ sches destroy it before I even get a chance to fight."
"Minuet—"
"I know it’s impossible. But I have to do sothing, or I’ll regret it forever."
"…Then I’m staying too."
"Don’t be stupid! You think this is a joke?"
"You always think I’m joking! Stop underestimating !"
A touching sibling fight, both insisting on risking their lives.
Unfortunately, we didn’t have ti for that.
The waterspout was still moving closer.
At this rate, it would hit the land in ten minutes.
No choice. There was no ti to waste.
"Cruello, take Gavotte and get out of here."
Cruello stared at , then suddenly grinned.
He strode over—right toward Gavotte, who was still arguing—
And struck him on the back of the neck.
…Huh?
"Bati!"
"He’s out."
"Excuse ? Does dreaming count as an evacuation?"
"As long as he’s unconscious, he won’t be a problem, right?"
"…Hah."
Cruello slung Gavotte over his horse and folded his arms, clearly settling in to watch.
Minuet, thrown off by the sudden turn of events, looked between us before realizing what had just happened.
Then she turned her glare on .
"This isn’t a ga!"
"Hmm, I never said I was playing. I’m a very serious person."
"Siora Bonetti!"
Rather than wasting ti on pointless bickering, I clenched my stomach and shouted—
"Presto! Your master is calling you!"
The golden eagle, which had been circling the waterspout hesitantly, imdiately swooped down.
It was too fast—like it had been waiting for this.
Not that I was surprised.
From the divine beast before, to the spirits now—sothing about my divine nature seed to draw them in.
Maybe it was just a natural affinity between kindred beings.
Either way—
Minuet was furious.
"Go back, Presto! I didn’t summon you!"
"Hey, hold on. I think I can help you, Minuet."
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